I Need You In It
by charmicky
Summary: Babe, okay, fine, I'll admit it-in my life, I need you; I need you in it.


_Based on the song "I Need You In It" by Meg and Dia._

The snick of the closing door sounded with a startling finality. Hermione collapsed onto the couch, arms unfolding as the anger drained out of her. What had she done?

_Give me some space_, she had said, _some alone time._

They had been fighting so often lately. She had been fighting_ him_so often lately. What was it that made her keep provoking him?

That was a stupid question. She knew exactly why she kept pushing him. She had always been the glue holding them together, maybe even forcing him to stick. She was the one who was always working so hard to maintain their relationship. Was it worth it if she put in seventy percent and he only put in thirty? Would he even try if she let her end of the rope slacken?

She had always told herself, yes, yes, a thousand times yes, because she loved him and he loved her. She couldn't be so insecure—he had picked _her._ Yet a niggling voice in her head continued to whisper, _Didn't you chase him first? So pushy…did he even have a choice?_ And now…who was she to compete with all the other girls who wanted him? All the actresses, the singers, the models, the _dancers_. She wasn't beautiful or charismatic or graceful. She wasn't mysterious or seductive. She couldn't even touch her was only a matter of time before he left her—it was inevitable. So she wanted to beat him to the punch. It seemed she had finally succeeded. Why did the thought make her feel like her heart was being shredded into itty-bitty pieces?

Blue. That was how she felt. It sounded so woefully insufficient, so childish. But somehow the word encompassed all the grief, pain, resignation in her chest, sharpened shards of endless broken sky.

Once, Harry had two dozen blue roses sent to her while she was at work. Because she had seemed sad that morning when he dropped her off, he said. The card read, _Let these flowers be blue for you. I love you._

So sweet. He was so sweet. He was everything her soul had ever wanted, and more than she deserved. And she…she was foolish and selfish and horrible.

Why wasn't she more like Fleur Delacour? More beautiful, more gracious…_stronger_. A stronger woman would be like a tree, never bowing or bending. A stronger woman wouldn't let insecurities send her into a cower and poke-swipe at the man she loved.

She wasn't a strong woman. But…she didn't want to let him go. Nothing was right without him. Nothing _worked._

She was crying, she realized. Not pretty tears, no. Her eyes felt inflamed, and her nose was cold, running. She sniffled and reached for the phone.

He picked up on the second ring. "Hello? Hermione? Is anything the matter?"

His voice, so comforting and warm in its worry, drifted into her ear. She pressed the phone closer, wanting to absorb as much of the sound as possible.

She sniffed again. "Harry, I'm so sorry. Please don't leave me."

"My love, how could I ever leave you? How could I ever stop loving you? I'm already on my way home." She could hear him smile.

"R-really?" Her eyes were tearing again.

His voice turned to one of concern. "Ah, Mione, don't cry! Don't cry, I'm so sorry, everything is my fault! Sweetheart, please! Crap! Five minutes. I'll be home in five minutes, okay?"

Home. Already on his way home. She'd see him soon. He was coming back to her. "Okay." Another sniffle.

He made it home in three minutes. If it had been any other day, she would have scolded him for driving too quickly. As it was, she simply stared at him, all watery brown eyes as he swung through the door. He deposited a plastic bag on the coffee table and was by her side in seconds, gathering her into his arms.

"Shh, shh, love, don't cry. It's all my fault. I'm sorry. Shh…" He smoothed her hair back.

"It-it's not your fault. It's mine! I'm n-not good enough for you, but I don't-I don't want to give you up!"

Such words demanded an explanation. Somehow, she found herself telling him all of the doubts that she had been having when he left. When she was done, he buried his face in the crook of her shoulder. She felt him smile.

He lifted his head and looked down at her tenderly. "Silly girl. Have you forgotten that I was the one chasing you? Ron told me I was like a lovesick puppy. But I couldn't help it, didn't even care…because I'd do anything to make you mine." He lowered his head until their noses were touching, brushing softly against each other. Her eyelids fluttered shut. "Ron still calls me a lovesick puppy. Can I help it if I always want you next to me? If I'm always thinking about you?" Briefly, his lips touched hers. "As for other girls…who can compare to my pretty little wife?"

She opened her eyes and gave him a watery smile. "I'm sorry for being so irrational. And for always picking fights with you. It's just that I feel so frustrated and huge and…and…" She couldn't seem to find a word for how she was feeling.

He kissed her again. "Pregnant ladies are supposed to be irrational. And shouldn't I be the one apologizing? I'm the one who made you this way." His hand curved gently, protectively over her belly. "Your dumb husband is the one who keeps annoying you, anyways. And I'm the one who made it so that you can't touch your toes." She giggled and put her hand over his.

His voice dropped to an almost-whisper. "I think you look adorable. You look feminine and beautiful, all round with our baby. I love that you can't touch your toes. I love that little waddle you have when you walk. I love _you_." He couldn't resist giving her another kiss, this one long and soft. Her eyes were still closed when he pulled away.

"Hermione?"

"Mmm…"

He shifted her in his arms. "Do you want to take a nap, sweetheart?" She nodded. He helped her stand and walked her to the bed. Once she was settled, he smoothed her hair back and turned to leave. Before he got to the door, though, Hermione called out sleepily. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to put the ice cream in the freezer," he said.

She sat up, wide-eyed. "That's where you went? To get me ice cream?"

"Chocolate and sherbet."

An indecipherable look came over her face. Was she upset? Panicked, he asked, "Are those the wrong flavors?" She shook her head no, and he moved closer to the bed. "What is it then?" She launched herself at him, flinging her arms around him.

"You're the best husband in the whole entire world," she said, her head buried against his chest. She pulled away and kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"You're welcome," he whispered back. "Now go to sleep. I have to go before the ice cream melts." He left the room.

Hermione lay back down. She shifted to her left, then her back, then her right. It was hard to get comfortable. She couldn't sleep without Harry holding her, without the warm spot he left next to her. She sighed, a loud, gusty sound. An interminable length of time seemed to pass before he reappeared in the doorway, a box in his hand.

"What is that?" she asked, curious.

"Chocolate," he grinned. "I knew you'd want some soon." He put the box on the bedside table. "Why aren't you sleeping yet?"

Embarrassed, she looked away. "I can't sleep without you next to me."

His grin grew even wider. Gently, so as not to jostle Hermione, he climbed into the bed to rest beside her. He tugged the blanket up to cover her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her.

"Better?" he asked, pressing a kiss to her hair.

"Much," she sighed happily.

His hand found hers under the covers and their fingers entwined.


End file.
